Therapy
by LEYTON-NALEY
Summary: Oliver Queen decides to go see a therapist about his sexual fantasies involving Felicity.


"It's been a while since I've seen you here, Mr. Queen," the woman said, crossing her legs. "How have things been?"

"Things have been… difficult," Oliver sighed, adjusting in his seat.

"Well, I'm here to listen," she smiled, placing her clipboard on the seat next to her. "Tell me what's been going on."

Earlier in the week, Oliver had decided to do something he hadn't done for a long time and schedule an appointment with his therapist. Lately, things at work had gotten more stressful. Oliver knew the main source of all his stress, and it had nothing to do with his job at Queen Consolidated or as the Arrow.

No, all of his frustration was centered around the gorgeous blonde who had somehow stolen his heart without trying. She came into work looking ridiculously sexy, and it took every ounce of restraint not to just grab her and put out that pit of fire blazing from within. Oliver had to remain professional at all times; no sexual contact allowed. It was a wonder he got any work done at all with all of the tight skirts she wore.

"Lately," Oliver began, clasping his hands together, "I've been having sexual fantasies about a woman I work with."

"I see," his therapist nodded, clearing her throat. "Sometimes fantasies are really just strategies the brain uses to reveal a certain message. Any particular thought that seems… repetitive?"

"All of them involve me screwing her until she sees stars," he murmured, eyes already darkening from the thought. "You see, this woman is like no other."

"What makes her so different?" she questioned, sticking her pen between her lips in concentration.

"Where to begin?" he chuckled, resting his chin on his hands. "For starters, she's the smartest woman I've ever met. You wouldn't believe the kind of things she knows."

"Have you always been attracted to intelligent women, Mr. Queen?"

"To be completely honest, I've never stayed around long enough to find out. The girls I've encountered have never held my attention for longer than a day. But this girl… I've known her for months and she hasn't left my head once."

"What else is so enticing about her?" she asked, smiling to herself a little.

"She's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. It's the kind of beautiful that you're always aware of, but don't pay much attention to until she's walking into a room full of people and you want to be the only one looking at her."

"It sounds like a particular event triggered this realization," she inferred.

"I was attending an auction and we had planned to meet up at the event," Oliver recalled, the memory flooding over him. "I remember turning my head and seeing her emerge through this crowd of people. It was like something from a movie. She was wearing this gold dress and her hair was falling over her shoulders in the sexiest of ways. No one else in the room could even begin to compare to this woman. It was the first time a girl had ever actually stolen my breath."

"So it isn't just about the sex? You want more with this woman?"

"Yes," he agreed. "I want everything with her."

"Are you sure?"

"Oh, I'm positive," he confirmed with a small smile. "I've known this for a while."

"When did you realize you thought of her as more than a friend?"

"I can't remember the exact moment," he answered.

Oliver looked at his therapist, awaiting the next question. She stared back at him, seeing him turn uncomfortably under her gaze. Thinking he was just shy about speaking of it, she cleared her throat.

"Mr. Queen, anything that happens in this room will remain in this room," she assured.

"It's not that I don't want to share," he quickly explained. "I just think I have been slowly falling for her from the moment we met. The exact moment is a little hard to pinpoint."

"Oh," she murmured, tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth.

"What's the next question?" he prompted.

"How about we get back to the reason you're here now that I have a little insight?" she spoke. "You said you've been having sexual fantasies about her?"

"Yes, it's an everyday occurrence. Just looking at her makes my mind think of very..." he trailed off, searching for a better way to put this, "impure thoughts."

"Like what?"

"Kissing every square inch of her body," he said, setting his elbows on his knees. "At work, I picture bending her over my desk and not holding back. There are plenty of other scenarios that work their way up there. I do spend a lot of my time within close proximity of her."

"I think it's perfectly normal to fantasize about that sort of stuff. With the way you look, I'm sure she's doing the same thing."

"What do you assume she's thinking about?" he asked, the thought of Felicity thinking about him in such ways turning him on.

"Shoving her computers off to the side and riding you on the edge of her desk," she answered, voice quivering a little.

Oliver felt his blood began to rush downwards and took a deep breath. As she was telling him this, the image filled his mind. He could practically feel Felicity beneath him. When he opened his eyes again, that same lust-filled look was mirrored in hers. There wasn't a single doubt in him that she wasn't turned on.

"Maybe you can show me what you mean," he suggested in a casual manner.

Things in the room shifted. The air grew thicker as she bit the inside of her cheek. He could feel the want emanating from her body and over to his. Her eyes glinted at him, preparing him for the answer he knew she would give him; the answer he wanted to hear.

"I would love to, Mr. Queen."

"What happens in here stays in here, right?" he quoted, making his way towards her with his newly appointed green light.

"Uh- hu," she murmured, standing up to meet him half way. "That is the rule, Mr. Queen."

He reached for her arm, running a thumb lightly over her wrist. She was already forgetting her breathing pattern. Glancing up at him through hooded eyes, she tried to read his mind. It was much harder than she expected. Then again, Oliver Queen had always been tough to read. His face could stay blank, yet his mind would be racing with a million thoughts. Strange as it was to admit, she liked it.

"Good," he responded, closing the space between them in one big step.

Her breath caught the moment his lips touched hers. He kissed her hungrily, placing a hand on her hip. Her lips were full, soft, making him eager. He buried his other hand in her long blonde hair, drinking her in. Tilting his head a little, he deepened the kiss. She moaned and figured that if the kissing was that good, what happened after would be completely mind blowing.

Oliver tugged and nipped at her bottom lip, hands hastily scanning her body. Her breathing was ragged when he pulled away to suck on her neck. She didn't have the mindset to tell him not to leave his marks on her skin. Even if she could think clearly with how his fingers were pressing into her lower back in a way that normally wouldn't arouse her so much, she wouldn't scold him for it. As far as she was concerned, she was his to mark.

Oliver spun her around so that her back was pressed against his front. He reached for the zipper that rested at the top of her black dress. Sliding it down at a tortuously slow pace, he took time to admire every scrap of skin exposed to his starving eyes. He left the zipper at the halfway mark, snaking his hands inside her dress from the back. He cupped her breasts through her bra, gently kneading them as he pressed hard against her.

"You know," he growled, breath hot in her ear. "She has a dress just like this that gets me so hard, I have to take care of myself in the bathroom before returning to work."

"Oh my god," she moaned, dampening even more at the thought of him getting off.

Sliding a few fingers inside of her bra cups, he teased the nipples underneath. She let out little squeals of pleasure, her hands making circles over his much larger ones through her clothing. He sucked on the spot just underneath her ear, making her arch into him in a way she's positive her body has never reacted before. He groaned at the feeling of her pressed against his length and knew he needed to hurry if he was going to last.

Oliver removed his hands from inside her dress and refocused on her zipper. He placed one hand on her shoulder and the other finished sliding the zipper the rest of the way down. The dress fell to the ground in a heap at her feet, and he thought he was going to faint. She wasn't wearing any panties.

"Fuck, Feli-" he stopped, catching himself.

Calling her Felicity would not be the best thing for him to do in this situation. He sighed in relief because she didn't seem to catch his almost slip up. She turned around to face him again since he seemed to be frozen, and removed her bra from her body. She was now completely naked and exposed to him, and she was annoyed that he still had all of his clothes on.

Hurriedly, her fingers worked to unbuckle his black belt that probably cost more than her entire outfit. His pupils dilated with lust when she cupped him through his pants. Oliver shed his suit jacket, yanking his tie loose. She stood up and grabbed the ends of his black dress shirt, roughly separating the two sides and sending buttons flying in all directions. Her eyes were glued to his torso, bottom lip between her teeth in admiration.

Her fingers dragged along the indents of his abs, retracing over the thick scars that were a reminder of all he had survived. Lowering her lips, she kissed each and every one. A warmth spread through him wherever her lips touched, a trail of fire taking its place. He kicked off his pants and waited for her to get to her feet. She stared at him with pleading eyes, letting him know he was in complete control.

Swiftly, he shoved her onto the white couch. Her back hit the soft cushions as she sprawled out in front of him. He groaned at the sight, quickly covering her body with his. He fused their lips together, tongues wrestling for dominance, and slipped a finger in between her slick folds. She moaned and bit his lip, rocking her hips against his hand. She couldn't breathe with him pressing into her like that and his hand working her up in such an indescribable way.

Things blurred when he entered another finger inside of her and pumped faster. He trailed kisses along her collarbone, sucking on her soft skin every so often. She rode his fingers hard, body desperate for that release that had been building up inside of her. Within a couple more minutes, she was gripping his back and letting the waves of pleasure pass through her body.

Oliver didn't wait for her to recover. He stepped out of his boxers, guiding himself to her entrance and slamming in. Heat surrounded him and it took everything in him to not let go right then and there. She was so warm and tight; he just wanted to bury himself in her. She whimpered at the sudden action, biting down on his shoulder in ecstasy.

He thrust his hips forward, hands gripping her sides for support. When her mind caught up to her body, she began to slam her hips onto him, meeting him thrust for thrust. In a matter of seconds, they fell into a rhythm. Everything about this was fast, hard, rough. Her nails clawed into his back while his teeth nipped at her ear. Embarrassingly enough, she was already for a second release.

Oliver felt his own climax coming on as well, and thrust extra hard to get her to join him for a final time. It didn't take much after that before her cries filled the room and she clamped onto him for dear life. The clenching around him was all he needed to let go himself. Her orgasm was still hitting her, and he knew it was one of the more intense ones. Her eyes were shut so tightly, bright spots fluttered around inside her head. She lost track of how long she was holding her breath, nails digging into his back desperately.

"Oliver!" she screamed, coming over the last wave.

Her legs fell to the cushions in exhaustion, her breathing loud and fast. He collapsed next her, thankful there was enough room on this couch for the both of them. He wrapped an arm around her back, pushing her to his chest. Oliver placed a sweet kiss to her temple, eyes running over her flushed face. He chuckled and she turned to look at him.

"What?" she asked, eyebrows furrowed.

"You broke character," he said, a grin on his face.

"What?" she scoffed. "I did not."

"Yes, you called me 'Oliver'," he pointed out. "You were supposed to stick to 'Mr. Queen'."

"Whatever," she sighed, letting a smile crack. "It's not my fault you decided to give me the strongest orgasm in the world during role play."

"Felicity, just admit that I am the best you ever had," he responded, kissing her cheek.

"I never denied it," she cackled. "You thought I couldn't stay in character, didn't you?"

"No, I knew you could. I just wanted to prove to myself that I could break you out of it."

"Typical Oliver Queen," she replied, smiling up at him. "You almost broke character too for a second."

"I didn't think you caught that," he told her, still grinning.

"I did, but I was having too much fun to say anything," she admitted, running a finger along his jawline and over his slight stubble.

"I can't believe you were wearing panties," he recalled, shaking his head.

"Have you looked at yourself in the mirror? I had to even out the playing field somehow," she shrugged.

"Don't tell me you do that at work, too."

"Well..." she trailed off, tilting her head to the side.

"Felicity," he growled, amazed at how easily she could get him going again.

"I love you," she giggled, as he peppered her neck with kisses.

"I love _you_, Felicity Smoak."

She closed her eyes in content, and he couldn't help but stare in awe. She was all his. He couldn't ask for anything more perfect than that.


End file.
